Moments and Musings
by The Crow and the Butterfly
Summary: A series of short one-shots. 08: In which Tono likens homosexuality to geometry. "See this? I'm the line. You're the circle. When you put us together, you get that 'no' symbol. Like on no-smoking signs." "Which you frequently ignore. What's your point?"
1. The Fact of the Matter

Inspired by a class project and fueled by writer's block.

I don't own Mikan, Anna, Natsume, or anything related to Nintendo

* * *

Anna stared down at the silver box, one eyebrow raised and lips pursed. Mikan beamed enthusiastically, but her friend wasn't convinced.

"Aren't these like, twenty years old?"

Mikan's smile faded into a slightly defensive expression. "Technically, yeah, but I like them better. One of my friends had one when I was a kid, and I used to wanna sleep over at her house all the time, you know?"

"No," interjected Anna.

"Oh… Well, I saw one at the thrift store down the street and got it for Natsume's birthday. It's actually really fun, even though I'm kind of bad at it." Mikan grinned hopefully at the curly-haired girl. "Besides, Wiis are overrated."

"I'll agree with you there," resigned Anna, thinking of kids she had known after her graduation. At one point, she had even been asked to make a Nintendo-themed cake for an eight-year-old's birthday party. Granted, it actually _had _been a lot of fun…

"Fine. I'll give it a try." Mikan actually jumped for joy, and rushed to untangle the mess of wires stemming from her secondhand GameCube. Anna collapsed on the couch, a navy piece that let out a _whoosh _of air whenever you sat down, and smelled of cinnamon and Natsume. She must be spending too much time around here, she mused, to know what Natsume smells like.

Mikan _whooshed _down beside her and handed her a controller. She looked at it dubiously, seeing only a multitude of knobs and buttons that she was practically guaranteed to be useless with.

"You know," said Anna, absently turning over the plastic object to see if it looked any less daunting. "Before the Nintendo people made video games, they used to be a chain of love hotels." Mikan choked on her mouthful of a soda that had been on the coffee table.

"Who told you that?"

"Miruku. Then again, god knows who she got it from," Anna replied. As her friend shook her head incredulously, she watched the startup screen. "What game are we going to play, exactly?

"Mariokart!" cried Mikan a little too excitedly. "It's really, really fun!"

"I'll take your word for it." Anna had not yet shed all of her initial skepticism, but, she had to admit, the little dinosaur thing was cute. Mikan noticed player two's pointer heading towards it while selecting her character, and cried out in alarm.

"No!" she gasped. "Yoshi is _mine_!" Anna pressed herself back into the cushions at the unexpected outburst, dropping her controller in shock.

"My god, Mikan," she said. "You're really possessive over an animated dino." Mikan grinned sheepishly, and advised her to take the mushroom-looking one. She was also given a quick overview on controls before beginning their race, but forgot almost immediately. Anna sighed. She was doomed.

"Crud," hissed Mikan, narrowing her eyes in concentration as Anna (to her surprise) zoomed off. "Got off to a bad start." Anna giggled, twiddling one of the knobs.

"You know what? I'm actually doing okay!"

"Speak for yourself," muttered Mikan darkly as she watched her character spin off the edge of a cliff.

Anna came in fourth, Mikan in last. The latter miraculously undaunted, she readied to begin another match. But, as seems to happen in the most inopportune of times, the phone rang. She got up to answer it, leaving Anna alone and awkward and smelling like Natsume.

"Yeah, mkay. Anna's over now." The pink-haired woman listened to the one-sided conversation in the kitchen, suddenly alert when she heard her name.

"No, Natsume, I can't tell her to go away. No, that's rude. You're rude. Don't be rude, Natsume. Fine, then, she'll still be here. You can hide in the bedroom or something. Yeah, bye. See you. Love you." On that note, Mikan hung up, returning to her living room and a pensive Anna.

"What're you thinking about so hard?" she teased, poking her friend in the shoulder. Anna jumped. Mikan thought it was funny how she blushed the same color as her hair.

"Mikan…" began Anna in an attempt at a casual tone. "What's it like being married?" The setup didn't fool Mikan (for once), and her smile twisted into a pitying sort of expression.

"Don't worry…" she murmured, reaching out to ruffle Anna's curls. "You'll find someone. You've got plenty of time. I was just lucky."

Anna sighed heavily and hugged a throw pillow. "Everyone says that, but it just seems like all my friends have got a guy but me."

Mikan put up a hand, appearing to be counting something. After folding down a couple of fingers, she looked back up. "Miruku."

The pink-haired woman sighed again. "She's been with her boyfriend for three years. Seriously, Mikan, you'd think you'd have known."

"Nonoko," she tried a second time. Anna groaned. "She texted me yesterday about a really hot guy that probably likes her. Can we get back to Mario-whatever?" Mikan pressed a button with a "this-conversation-is-not-over" sigh, and the countdown for the next race began.

"Sumire," attempted Mikan, narrowly avoiding Yoshi's death.

"She hooked up with Koko at your wedding. How did you not kn—"

"She WHAT?" Mikan yelled. Anna took the opportunity to bomb her stationary character.

"Seriously, you didn't catch—"

"Hooked up as in had sex?"

"Well," thought Anna. "Nobody really knows for sure…"

"Nobody tells me anything," grumbled Mikan, but wasted little time in continuing her onslaught. "Hotaru's single."

Anna rolled her eyes. "Does Hotaru even count?"

"Of course she counts; she's as much a girl as you are. She's just a bit… relationship-averse."

"So, she shouldn't count, then."

"Luca. What about Luca."

"I thought we were sticking to girls!"

Mikan turned her head from her doomed avatar to watch Anna. "You're just making this harder on yourself, you know that, right?"

"Look, Mikan," Anna started. "I know you're trying to be nice and all, but you and Natsume have been together since middle school, and—"

"Not true," Mikan interrupted. "There was the time we broke up, remember?"

"Yeah, for like, three hours." Anna paused to swerve wildly around a falling boulder. "The point is, you don't really get what it's like to be hopelessly single."

As if on cue, Natsume stalked in through the living room, and opened the refrigerator. "If Umenomiya doesn't leave before dinner, Mikan," he said, cracking a Tupperware and taking a tentative sniff. "Then she's making it. We could use some decent food around here."

"Natsume, stop scaring off my friends," Mikan scolded. "And that pasta's perfectly good."

Anna accelerated, scraping a second place finish. As Mikan bemoaned her consecutive losses, the pink-haired woman stood up.

"It's okay, I'll just go."

Natsume put up a hand in acknowledgement, and Mikan opened her mouth to protest. Anna moved toward the door. "No, it's fine."

She closed the door quietly behind her and shrugged on her jacket. As she pressed the down button next to the elevator, she fought the stinging feeling that always meant she was going to cry.

_You know, _she comforted herself; _I've got some good points too. I can cook, and she can't…_ But, that didn't count, she supposed, because it was her alice and she couldn't help it. And before long, the list of ways she was better than Mikan began to serve its opposite purpose.

_She looks good in like, every color, and nothing goes with my hair. She's taller than me. She's more outgoing than I am. _

_At least I'm better than her at Mariokart, _she smiled slightly. But the fact still wouldn't change that Mikan would be snuggling up to her husband that night, and Anna would curl up alone in her optimistically large bed.

Life, she thought, just wasn't fair.

* * *

Don't as me why I chose Anna for this one. I like her a lot, though, and you'll be hearing more from her in due time.

This will be added whenever I have time, and whenever I have something ready, thus, it will be updated sporadically. It will contain drabbles about the past, the present, and the future. The stories will span multiple genres and multiple themes. I've got several random bits I want to write, so stay tuned.


	2. Himawari no Kimi

Here's chapter two. On with the random Luca-centric show.

Oh, and no reviews? You guys made me whine about it to the people who PM'd me. You owe it to them, at least.

* * *

It was brought to his attention at the age of six that he gave off the impression that he would know something about flowers. His kindergarten class was on an end-of-year outing to a local garden; a line of children winding unsteadily along the gravel path in pairs. His partner at the time whose name escaped him now, a girl whose amber curls waved softly around her face, was latched tightly onto his arm. She giggled, tugging him over to a bush of brightly-colored bursts.

"Ruu-chan! Come look at these ones! They're so pretty!" she gushed, reaching up on her tip-toes to try and pick one.

"You're not s'posed to do that," he warned, pulling her away. She pouted.

"Fine," she said. "Which ones do you like? The rhododendrons or those nasturtiums over there? Or those foxgloves? Ooh, look! Snapdragons!" She pointed over to a bunch of reddish flowers, a bell-shaped plant, and some fuchsia-colored ones.

He didn't respond, his eyes shifting uncomfortably from the girl to the flowers. He could distinguish roses, tulips, daisies, sunflowers, of course, and there was a bush of morning-glories near his backyard, but other than that, he was pretty much useless with this sort of thing. He was astonished that she could even _pronounce _rhododendron or nasturtium, let alone know what they looked like. And what on earth was a snapdragon?

"Um…" he stalled, his gaze resting on a few brilliant red blossoms. "How 'bout those ones?"

"The zinnias?"

"What's a zinnia?"

Her brows knit together in confusion. "The flowers you were pointing at. Or were you pointing at the camellias? I couldn't really tell."

He blushed. "Which are camellias?"

"The pink ones." She giggled girlishly, hiding her mouth behind her hand. "Ruu-chan, you're silly."

"I'm not silly," he cried defensively. "How am I silly?" His partner didn't answer, just giggled.

"Y'know what?" he said. "I like these." He plucked a single yellow flower from the grass. "Buttercups," he stated triumphantly.

"Buttercups?" trilled the girl. "They're so… ordinary." She tilted her head. "They are kinda pretty, I guess."

When the field trip ended, he breathed a sigh of relief. On the way back to the school building, he turned to his buddy.  
"Why'd you ask me all those questions about the fancy flowers?"

"'Cause you like flowers, don't you?" she responded brightly.

He shook his head. "Not really… I mean, they're okay, but… why'd you think I did?"

"I don't know. Maybe 'cause you're pretty," she said unabashedly. "Like flowers."

oOo

Now, at age eleven, Luca Nogi knew he wasn't exactly the most masculine guy you were going to come across. When you thought "boy," you thought of Natsume, or Mochu, or someone. Definitely not that kid with wide blue eyes, soft blonde hair, and the unfortunate ability to look good in a dress.

Every now and then, he would be proud of his appearance, but most of the time he hated it. He wished it would all just change. There wasn't much that could be done with his facial features, he mused, but perhaps he could cut his hair and spike it up or something. He could wear a hat down over his eyes, possibly. It might give him that "cool" look. Maybe it would help to wear the uniform sloppily like Natsume did, or at least to undo the gay-looking bow around his neck.

Whenever he thought this, he shook his head. There was no way he could pull that off.

And then, to top it all off, there was the issue of his alice.

He might have been able to deal with the flocking animals and the envious stares from small girls if he was anything like his best friend. Sadly, as much as he tried to deny it, he was just a big softie. His feminine looks, his soft nature, and his gentle alice went hand in hand in hand.

Not to say that he hated his alice. God forbid. He most likely would have been an animal lover without it anyway.

Luca could live with all that. He could put up with it. The last straw, however, was the flower-adorned envelope that showed up in his pile of letters that New Year's.

Sumire raised a skeptical eyebrow. Koko peered over her shoulder, grinning jovially.

"Please tell me that's not what I think it is," he choked, trying to hold back laughter as Sumire elbowed him in the ribs.

"Well, go on then," she prodded. "Open it."

Luca tentatively slipped his thumb under the seal, fearing the worst. He cringed, but there was no explosion of light or petals, simply a sheet of paper.

Sumire snatched the invitation from his hands, reading it over to make absolutely sure.

"But," she giggled. "I thought this was only for girls."

Mikan bounced over; her kimono sleeves flapping behind her. "You got one too?" She threw her arms around his neck. "That's great! You and me and Hotaru, we can all go together! It'll be just like last year, except without Natsume or You-chan…" She paused for a moment. "And hopefully no long-lost sisters and all that this time, either."

He blushed furiously, disentangling himself from her hug. Mikan looked rather hurt. "What's wrong?"

"I… I just…" he stammered, looking around for help. All of a sudden, the envelope was swiftly tugged from Sumire's grip.

Natsume scanned the letter as Sumire had, but instead of laughing he snorted in disgust. "Luca," he stated calmly. "Please don't tell me you're thinking of going."

"Well, why wouldn't he go?" interjected Mikan. "Don't listen to him," she added to Luca. "He's just jealous that he's not invited."

"Jealous?" exclaimed Natsume in incredulity. "They locked up my sister!"

Mikan stood up, staring him in the face. (Koko "Oooh"-ed. He was ignored.) "Did you completely forget everything Hii-sama did to help us last summer?"

Natsume dodged her glare, instead catching Luca's eye. "Even so," he said. "I wouldn't exactly want to go to a party full of giggling girls hosted by some creepy old lesbian woman. I'm a man, dammit, and there's no way in hell you'll find me in there talking about flowers and lipstick and sugar and spice and all that girly crap ever again." He narrowed his eyes. "Especially if they called me _Himawari-_chan"

Luca shrunk slightly under his glare. Mikan pointed over to one corner.

"Hotaru wants him to go, don't you, Hotaru?" She turned her puppy-eyes on her best friend, who had been observing the conversation with an objective eye.

"Why not?" Hotaru offered her opinion over the top of her monstrous stack of cards. "I'm always up for seeing Nogi in a dress."

Natsume closed his eyes, raking a hand through his hair. "Son of a—"

"Stop it," Luca mumbled. When the feeble effort yielded no results, he resorted to raising his voice. "Shut up!"

Everyone's heads whipped around, and a silence fell over the room. Luca stiffened under the attention.

"I'm not going," he announced. Mikan gaped, and Natsume nodded sharply.

"But…" Mikan wilted. "Why?"

"I'm tired of being treated like I'm all cute and shy and innocent and girly," Luca said, with slightly less confidence than he had five seconds ago. "I just want it to stop. And dressing up and going to goddamned flower parties isn't going to help any."

Sumire broke the resulting silence. "Did you just… curse?"

"Yeah," breathed Luca. He grinned widely. "Yeah, I did."

"Well," said Natsume, striding over to his friend. "I'm glad you've got some sense." He lifted his hand, torching the envelope in his palm. Mikan and Sumire both made scandalized noises. In spite of the expressions on their faces, Luca broke out into laughter.

Of course, when the day came, he found himself going to the party. Mikan had beggedhim. Luca sighed, tugging at the sleeve of his kimono. He knew there was no way he'd be able to pull it off.

* * *

I realize it's weird to use "Ruu-chan" and "Luca" in the same context, but "Luu-chan" looks weird and there's no way in hell I'm calling him "Lulu." Poor Luca's been put through enough indignity.

Well, there you have it. I'll have another chapter up whenever.


	3. Some Valentine

Here's a Valentine's fic. I promise myself I wouldn't write things for holidays, but now, of the two holidays that have come since I started uploading stories, I've had something up for both of them (if you count the Christmas Ball chapter of WSG that came out Christmas Eve).

I've got a feeling that everyone's horrendously out of character, but you guys probably know better than I do. Enjoy.

* * *

Valentine's Day, Yuka noted, was a horrible time to be single.

"Well, of course," drawled Narumi sardonically when she voiced this opinion. "It's the day of _love_. Naturally, Valentine's doesn't cater to the single population."

"I knew it was no use talking to you," she muttered. "You're not going to get it."

He raised a brow. "Not going to get what?"

"Oh, never mind." A couple strolled past, a blonde girl giggling on her tall boyfriend's arm. Yuka sighed.

"I know." Narumi watched them with an appraising eye. "They don't go together at all. See, look how he's acting. He doesn't really like her. Besides," he said. "He's too old for her, anyway."

Yuka drew her knees up to her chest, sinking her head down to rest on her arms, but caught herself before she pouted. "What do you know about that sort of thing, anyway?"

"Actually, I consider myself a bit of an authority on that sort of thing."

She rolled her eyes. "Just because you could have hundreds of girls flocking around you if you wanted doesn't mean that you're any more of an expert than me."

"Well, then," Narumi scoffed. "Have you ever had a boyfriend?"

"Have you ever had a girlfriend, Naru?"

He rested his chin in his hand. "Touché."

"You haven't gotten any chocolate, have you?" wondered Yuka after a brief silence.

"Not yet," he replied, brushing a stray curl from his face. "But there's plenty of time. It's not even noon."

"See," she grinned. "Without your pheromones, nobody even likes you."

"You like me," he said, somewhat hesitantly. "Don't you?"

"Evidently," Yuka smiled kindly despite her noncommittal words. "I've been sticking around with you for this long, haven't I?"

"Wow, thanks," groaned Narumi in as good-natured a manner as he could manage. "I feel _so _loved."

"It is the day of love, after all," she giggled. He pushed her gently.

"Stop that," he mumbled under his breath.

Yuka looked up at the sky absently, while Narumi focused on a boy lounging against a tree across the way. He coughed scornfully as a blushing girl with a long wavy ponytail came down the walk, chocolates in hand. She skipped over to the boy by the tree and he flushed as well, eyeing her brightly-colored bag hopefully.

Yuka threw out an arm wildly to stop him, but he pushed himself up from the ground anyway.

"Naru! Hey, Naru! What are you trying to pull?" she shouted. He ignored her and strode up behind the ponytailed girl, tapping her firmly on the shoulder. Yuka watched in amazement as she whirled around and Narumi gave her an exquisitely charming smile.

"Oh," she gasped. "Anju-senpai!"

"He's got to be kidding!" hissed Yuka to herself.

The other boy stood up. "What the hell are you trying to do, Anju?" He was disregarded by both Narumi and his preoccupied would-be girlfriend.

Yuka couldn't make out the conversation, but before she knew it, the boy had stomped away in anger, and Narumi was sitting down beside her again; popping a chocolate in his mouth and chuckling softly to himself. She eyed the bag disdainfully.

"Naru, you jerk, go apologize!" she exclaimed. He held open the bag of candy, wordlessly offering her some.

"No thanks," she stated. "I hope they make you grow another leg or something."

Narumi swallowed, shaking his head. "They won't. I think she really liked him."

"Then why did you take her chocolate, you idiot!" Yuka yelled, her temper boiling slightly over the top.

"I was hungry," he explained, as if it was a reasonable excuse. "You sure you don't want any?" Narumi shook the bag under her nose.

"No, Naru." Yuka turned away defiantly. "I will not have any of your stolen chocolates."

"Oh, look here; who's talking about _stealing_."

Yuka reddened. "You take that back!"

Someone from above chuckled. The pair looked up, and Narumi stared at his feet as Yuka hurriedly rearranged her hair.

"Sensei! What are you doing here?"

"Is there a problem?" Izumi Yukihara leaned casually against a nearby wall, grinning broadly. "I heard a good bit of yelling over here, and thought I'd have a look in."

"No, sensei," Yuka stammered. "There's nothing wrong."

"Alright, then," he said, looking down on the top of Narumi's head. "You're sure?"

"Yes, we're quite alright," murmured Yuka, the several packages of candy in her teacher's arms catching her attention. He caught her staring, then tossed one over at her.

"Here you go," he laughed, smiling at the expression on her face. "I've got plenty. If it does anything weird, I'll be sure to make it up to you."

"Er… Thank you," Yuka blushed, pointedly not looking at his face.

"No problem," he beamed. Yuka giggled. Narumi barely disguised a noise of disgust behind a sneeze at the teacher's retreating back.

"You could try to be nice, you know," Yuka scolded.

"So." Narumi changed the subject. "Have you made any chocolates for _sensei_?"

"If you must know, no," she said quietly, looking away.

"Well, if you're planning on roping him into being your valentine, you'd better get a move on," he muttered darkly.

"What?" she gasped. "I could never…"

"Good," Narumi said against his better judgment. "I'd pity him."

"I don't see anyone jumping at the chance to make you _their_ valentine," Yuka retorted.

"I suppose you've got a point," he agreed reluctantly.

"We've got to stick together, then," she smiled. "Us lonely people."

"I'm not lonely," Narumi said, half to himself. A sudden stroke of inspiration struck him. He stood up, extending a hand down towards his confused friend.

"Yuka-senpai?" he asked before he could back out, with as friendly a smile as he could muster. "Will you be my valentine?"

"Don't you dare use your alice on me," she warned, as she felt it would be slightly more tactful than "Wait, what?"

"What?"

"What?"

"_Senpai,_" he said. "You never answered."

"Oh…" Yuka trailed, looking up at the boy above her.

"You did say we should stick together," he persuaded. "I'm sorry if I didn't make you a card or anything, because I can do that… If you want."

Yuka laughed, taking his hand. "Why not. I wouldn't mind a card, you know."

"Do I have to?" asked Narumi, refraining from sounding whiny as best he could.

"No," she replied teasingly. "I could do with some chocolate, though."

He tossed her the ill-gotten bag with a smirk. She chucked it back at his head.

Some valentine.

* * *

I'm still not clear on exactly what Narumi's surname is; as I've heard both Anju and Anjo. Evidently, I'm leaning towards the former.

Um, review, I suppose.

-TCATB


	4. Skills

This should have been up yesterday, but stupid FFN kept telling me there was a problem with the file and I was too busy trying to figure out Haruhi Suzumiya to bother messing with it.

But never fear, I am back with the fourth installment of my collection or random useless one-shots. Apparently, I can't go very long without writing something with Tsubasa in it, and I couldn't think of a reason that the slightly violent and stubborn Misaki we know and love (she's ba-ack!) would wear that genie outfit entirely of her own accord. Here goes.

Contains Misaki, Tsubasa, a couple doses of Megane, and cameos by Mikan and some other random girls. I don't own any of it, except possibly the random girls, and in that case I don't really care either way.

* * *

In general, he wasn't too skilled at anything that required manual dexterity, an eye for color, or, well, any artistic talent whatsoever. His drawings were usually unrecognizable as whatever they were supposed to be (but often were mistaken as something different and unintended). He couldn't touch a marker without getting strange colorful stains all over his hands, arms, and whatever else he happened to come in contact with.

But, hell, he could paint a _damn_ good orange piece of wood. Placing one hand on his hip, he stepped back to admire his work.

"Tsubasa, you've got paint on your pants."

He turned to his right, and Misaki pointed to the paintbrush in his hand, currently dripping flamboyant orange smudges onto his trousers. He dropped it back into the paint can and rubbed at one of the stains, only succeeding at getting orange on his finger. "So?"

"Orange clashes with blue," stated Misaki matter-of-factly.

"In your opinion, maybe."

"No, they're complementary."

Tsubasa scrunched his eyebrows together, still looking at the wall. "Orange and blue add up to one-hundred-eighty degrees?"

"One-eighty's supplementary, moron. I mean they're opposites. I'm talking about the color wheel."

He turned to Misaki with a skeptical "why-do-you-know-this" kind of look. "Do you really expect me to give a damn about the color wheel?"

"Fine," she sighed. "Whatever. Just bring that over when it dries, we're going to put it in between those yellow parts."

"I take it yellow doesn't clash with orange, then," grumbled Tsubasa as he lifted the large section of wall with barely concealed difficulty.

Misaki didn't answer, but watched him struggle with amusement. "You want me to get that?" she offered.

"I can do it myself," Tsubasa retorted angrily, though choosing the wrong moment to trip and nearly stagger into a table. Misaki rolled her eyes, but helped to steady the unwieldy plywood sheet and steer it over to its proper place.

"Good," she declared, crossing her arms. "We've got the maze pretty much made; a couple people are going around taking down everybody's weaknesses…"

"Do you have any idea how weird that sounds?" interrupted Tsubasa.

"Yes, shut up. Now where was I?"

"Weaknesses."

"Right. So, speaking of that, I've got Megane bug-hunting, as it ought to keep him busy, and going along with that, do you think you can go find as many mirrors as possible?"

Tsubasa raised an eyebrow. "How many mirrors do you think I've got?"

Misaki gave him the once-over. "Evidently, none." She ignored the indignant noise he made and continued. "Now, what else have we got to get done…?" There was a brief moment in which she was silent, thinking, then looked up at Tsubasa with a panicked expression. "Oh my god, what are we going to wear?"

"I was leaning towards clothes," he answered without missing a beat.

"_Tsubasa!_"

"Um, we could get someone from Technical to make stuff for us, maybe. I'm pretty sure there's this one girl who—"

"We haven't got _time _to get someone from Technical. We're going to have to pull something together ourselves."

"Well, I dunno," said Tsubasa, scratching his nose awkwardly. "What do genies or whatever wear, anyway?"

Misaki leaned anxiously against a desk. "Now you've gone and gotten orange on your face."

"Does that matter right now?"

"No, I guess not," Misaki conceded. "But, seriously. What are we planning on wearing?"

"There are those funny-looking pants, you know the ones." Tsubasa made a series of obscure gestures at his ankles that mystified his friend. "The puffy kind with the thing around the bottom."

"Alright, let's start with that." Misaki dug out a couple sheets of blank paper from a corner bookshelf. "Do you think you can draw something?"

"Me? Draw something?"

Misaki bit her lip. "Perhaps not. I'll do it." She fished through her bag for a pen, and sketched out a figure. "So," she asked, though half to herself. "Something like this?"

"Uh, sure."

"Alright, this'll be you, then."

"Me?"

'Yeah." Misaki scribbled a mess of dark hair on what was clearly the head. "Hm… We can put something like… this… on you, maybe." She outlined a short-sleeved shirt and something that might have been a sort of vest.

Tsubasa stared incredulously at the outfit that was rapidly becoming part of his near future. "But that's a girl's top!"

"It's not a girl's top, it looks fine," Misaki replied, on the brink of laughter. "You know what would be funny? We should put you in a turban."

"A turban? Is this all completely for your own amusement?"

"A little bit, yes," she admitted with a smirk.

Tsubasa took the other sheet of paper and wrestled the pen from her hands. "Fine, then. Here's your outfit." Misaki watched dubiously as he drew out a similar pair of pants and a top that looked not unlike a swimsuit.

"No," she declared. "Not a chance."

Tsubasa ignored her completely. "You know, you could have something over that, some sort of see-through thing… But then we'd have to make the pants see-through as well…"

"I can't have see-through _pants_; do you have any idea what you're saying?" Misaki gasped.

"Don't worry, you'll have something under them, some shorts, maybe…" By this time, Tsubasa was grinning broadly to Misaki's obvious dismay. "What the hell, we can put you in one of those weird-looking veils, too."

"Give me back my damn pen." Misaki snarled, her face a dangerous shade of maroon. She lunged at Tsubasa as he dodged out of her way. Managing to get caught in a headlock, Tsubasa made a piteous, wailing sort of sound.

"Oi, Misaki, let him go," intervened someone from the doorway. "I'm tired of hearing a teenage boy make that noise."

"I take it you've gotten us a bug, then," said Misaki, though refusing to let go of her friend.

"Yeah, I squashed the real one so I got bored and went and got a fake one in Central Town." Megane grinned, walking over to the pair and raising his fist. "I got some lunch while I was down there, you want some?."

"Don't give her food," whined Tsubasa. "Get her off of me!" Megane opened his mouth, but Misaki beat him to it.

"Before you tell me what to do," She glared at Megane over her captive's head. "Then take a look at that outfit on the table over there."

Megane obediently picked the paper up, and began to laugh. "Tsubasa," he chuckled. "You're a genius."

"No, he's not," argued Misaki. "It's a joke, right?" Tsubasa squirmed under her arm.

"I don't know," said Megane. "If we could make this somehow, then it could turn out okay."

"You can't be serious!" she protested.

A couple of girls passed by, the scuffle catching their attention. One of them noticed the other sheet of paper on the table.

"Oh wow," she giggled. "I'd pay to see one of you wear this!"

Her friend peeked over Megane's shoulder. "Hey, look at this one! It's actually pretty cute!"

"Cute?" Misaki repeated.

"Yeah, you're right!" the other girl agreed. "You know who would look great in something like this? Mikan-chan!"

Misaki leaned against the back of a chair, burying her face in her hands. "You have _got _to be kidding me."

xx

"Oh my god," Misaki muttered, tugging at her shorts. "I can't believe you roped me into this."

"You said it," Tsubasa grumbled.

"Shut up and put on your turban, you douche," she replied. "I feel completely ridiculous."

"Well," said Tsubasa. "All you need to do is smile, look pretty, and thank god Tono hasn't showed up yet."

"Yeah," she interrupted. "Where is he, exactly?"

"I wasn't done. But you know Mikan's going to be all over this, so don't ruin this for her. Okay?"

"Look. I know you look pretty stupid, but at least you're mostly covered."

Tsubasa smiled mockingly. "Remember, that's pretty much your fault."

Misaki fixed him with a withering stare. "Give me your shirt."

"My what?"

"You heard me. Take it off."

"Are you crazy? I'm not going to—"

Megane appeared out of nowhere, laughing. "Being a bit forward there, aren't you?"

"You too," Misaki hissed. "Hand it over."

He blanched. "What, my shirt?"

"Yeah."

Megane rolled his eyes, pulling his shirt over his head and shrugging his jacket back on. "What's her problem?"

Tsubasa raised his eyebrows. "Who knows?"

"You two! Idiots! Shut up!"

Mikan bounced in, catching them all off guard. "Wow! This is _so _cool! You all look great!"

Misaki grinned in an overly enthusiastic way. "Thanks a lot, Mikan-chan!"

Tsubasa rubbed his forehead. This was starting to give him a headache.

* * *

The ending was shit. I know. If I messed up any of the math/color references, then, well, sorry.

Well, I'll be around. I've got to update my other fic, and I'm also in the process of researching all them high-schoolers for a one-shot I plan on writing. I'll find time to update this as well, but mostly because I'm started on about five different possible chapters.

TCATB, signing out.


	5. Terrible, Horrible, No Good Very Bad Day

I've just decided to nix the "Current Projects" section of my profile. Whatever I say I'm going to do, I don't and end up doing something completely different.

Chapter five: A NatsumeMikan. Yes, really.

* * *

At first glance, Mikan Sakura looked like someone who couldn't hurt a fly. She had the whole innocent look: The big, shining eyes, the pigtails, the cute expressions. You expected to be the type of person who was unfailingly kind and pacifistic. And most of the time, she was.

Conversely, Natsume Hyuuga looked like he could kill somebody, and probably had.

Therefore, he hadn't expected Mikan to hit him.

"It didn't hurt, really," he explained. "Does she look like she could do that much damage?" No, the black eye came from a freak accident involving several of Luca's animal friends, ignoring the fact that Luca himself hadn't even been there.

For the most part, the class actually bought it. Except for Koko. That jackass.

Mikan was in charge. Everybody knew that. It wasn't force that she used; it was what was best called "feminine charms."

Now, she was hardly a master of seduction. She didn't set out to screw with Natsume's sex drive. In all likelihood, she had no idea what she was doing when she gently pressed against his chest or brushed her fingers against his leg when asking if he would head over to Central Town and go buy her howalon because she had spent all that month's allowance on Hotaru's birthday present, or telling him to sit down and be quiet and don't kill Tsubasa/Tono/Narumi/Kaname/anyone male that might say hello. All she knew is that it worked.

Oh, how Natsume hated it.

Well, how was he supposed to get his way? He didn't scare her like he used to, and, well, he knew he teetered dangerously on the boundaries of "asshole," but he wasn't enough of a jerk to hit a girl.

Evidently, Mikan was confident enough to assault a boy.

He would admit to provoking her a bit. Fine. It was incredibly fun to watch her swell angrily, her face reddening until it looked as if steam might spout out her ears.

There were several factors lined up unhelpfully against him that day. The first was the pressure of end-of-year exams. The second was the extraordinarily awkward talk that Mikan had just received entitled "The Wonders of the Menstrual Cycle, or Why Life Sucks More for Girls than Boys," courtesy of resident experts Misaki Harada and Hotaru Imai, and the third was the new Baka Gun 3.0 prototype that Hotaru had sold her on sale because of the possibility of malfunction and explosion.

"Hi," she sighed, throwing herself down next to him in the shade of a tree. "How's your morning been?"

"As close to good as it gets, actually," he answered truthfully. His morning had been free of annoyance thus far. "You?"

"Mine's been shitty," she spat bitterly.

"'Shitty?'" Natsume asked, cocking an eyebrow. "Are you sure that's the word you'd choose?"

"Yes!" Mikan replied emphatically. "I've just realized that I barely know half the things for the tests this week, and I'm going to fail _again_, I'm positive, and at this rate I'll _never _get the best student award, and I'll _never_ get to see Jii-chan, and…" she squirmed, "this thing is _so _uncomfortable!"

"What thing?"

"You wouldn't know," she said. "It's a girl thing."

"Oh," he stalled, a pretty good idea what was going on but not sure he wanted his fears confirmed. He hoped Mikan would suck it up and drop the subject, but he had no such luck.

"I mean," she continued, her speech punctuated by several ambiguous gestures. "You guys have it _so_ great. All you have to do is make sure you don't hit your crotch with anything, and you'll be good." Natsume felt the need to inform her that that wasn't the half of it, but thought it unwise to interrupt her rant. "But, no, I just _had_ to be born female, so I bleed out of my… you know, and so I've got to stuff weird absorbent things in my underwear every month! It itches, Natsume! Itches!"

Now, that, he didn't need to know.

"That's what tampons are for, Mikan," he sighed.

She turned on him. "Maybe I'm not comfortable with shoving things up my… my… oh, you know!"

He smirked in amusement. "You're going to have to get over that."

"You," she accused, casting him a withering glare and pointing her finger threateningly, "are a sicko."

He scoffed. She huffed. They spent the next few moments staring pointedly in opposite directions, Natsume plotting his escape, and Mikan just watching a trio of elementary students and their uncooperative jump rope.

She turned to him."This might seem like a weird question, but why do you know the function of a tampon?"

Natsume rolled his eyes. "Did you not pay attention to the Sex Ed unit in sixth grade?" He thought for a moment. "Actually, that would explain a lot."

Mikan blinked. "Wait, you mean you actually did?"

He didn't feel like answering, so he merely stared back blankly.

"You do realize that this makes the only class you've ever paid attention to Sex Education, right?" Mikan teased. "What does that say about you?"

"That I'm educated and I'm not ashamed of it," he replied coolly. "For example, I can say the word 'vagina' out loud, which you apparently cannot."

"Oh, shut up," she hissed. He obliged. They slipped into silence once again, and once again, Mikan broke it.

"What do you think we're having for lunch today?" she asked, biting off a pink crescent from her nail and flicking it off in the grass.

"Well, whatever you're having for lunch," he said, "doesn't really matter to me, because, because I'm a special star, it'll be different, and by different, I mean better, than your lunch,"

Mikan growled. Natsume shifted himself a little farther away.

"Look, I'm not up for this." she grumbled. "All this time, I've been putting up with the crappy food they give me, and—"

"No you haven't, you've been mooching off Imai."

"Not _that _much! Hotaru won't let me eat like, anything of hers!" Mikan argued. "But that's not the point! I am having a _terrible_ day, and you just _have _to shove it in my face that you get better food than I do!"

"I'll give you my soup, if it'll make you shut the hell up," Natsume offered, though it sounded more like a command to Mikan. "I was having a perfectly nice, quiet morning until you showed up bitching about your 'lady problems.'"

To his surprise, she bit her lip, and her eyes brimmed with tears.

Oh fuck.

"Well, if you don't want me around," she said thickly, sniffling. "Then I'll just go, shall I?"

"Go, then!" he exclaimed, hoping she would leave before bursting into a fit of tears.

And that was when Natsume felt her knuckles collide with his eye.

_Ouchhhh…_

"What the hell, Mikan?" he gasped, pressing the spot tenderly to see if it would bruise.

"Serves you right!" she scolded. "You called me a bitch!"

He went back over what he had said, confused. "No I didn't. Did I?"

"Oh, you know you meant it!" she clarified.

"No, I didn't, Mikan," he said, putting his hands up in surrender. "I'm sorry if I've offended you by using the term 'bitching,' or whatever else."

She spent a few moments deciding whether she ought to forgive him or not, and eventually decided that she should. "S'okay. So," she said, getting up, "should we go for lunch now?"

Natsume didn't answer the question at hand, but instead craned his neck at an odd angle. "Weird."

"What's weird?" Mikan asked.

"I could have sworn your underwear was just plain white when you sat down. Now it's all red."

Mikan gasped, a hand flying to her behind. "Oh my god! Actually? _Natsume_!"

"Nah," he answered. "Just messing with you."

He'd expected her to maybe kick him or something, as she was in the perfect position for it. She could have called him an extremely rude name as well, and he would have been ready for it. But he was surprised when she whipped what looked like a gun out of her bag and fired it in his direction.

"Mikan," Natsume sighed, a little disappointed. "You hit the tree. Did you seriously just miss me at point-blank?"

"Shut up!" she shouted, pressing the Baka Gun to his forehead and pulling the trigger again.

A copious amount of smoke issued from the gunpoint, but for the most part, nothing happened.

Mikan stepped backwards, turning the gun over in her hands. "Weird. I wonder what's wrong with it." She shook it a few times, hten bent down to pick up a stick from the ground.

Natsume knew what she was going to do before she did it, and jumped up to stop her. "For the love of God, Mikan, don't!" He was too late. He'd only just grabbed her wrist when she turned the Baka Gun upside-down to look down the barrel and jammed the stick into it.

There was a prompt, noisy, and forceful explosion.

Mikan was thrown backwards on to the grass, while Natsume was flung back against the tree.

"Dammit, Mikan!" he sighed, rubbing at the back of his head. "Any idiot knows you're not supposed to point a gun right at their eye unless you're trying to kill yourself!"

"Well," she replied, sounding hurt. "We're not dead, are we?"

"That's because the damn gun can't kill you, and you're damn lucky!" he shouted. "My God, you are such an _idiot _sometimes!"

Mikan got up, dusting off her skirt and pointing her nose in the air. "Well, if that's what you think, then I don't see why I should be hanging around with you," she sniffed.

And with that, she turned on her heel and stomped away. He felt a strange mix of relief and guilt at her departure.

She'd forgiven him tearfully hours later. He decided right then and there that he would never, ever, not for as long as he lived, understand women.

A few days later, sporting a rather nice bluish-purple eye, he walked straight into Tsubasa Andou, who had a nasty bruise and a yellow Band-Aid plastered across his nose.

"Girls are fucking crazy," Natsume stated, gesturing to his face.

Tsubasa let out a low whistle. "Tell me about it."

* * *

Somebody set GA's picture on Manga Fox to Tsubasa modeling the summer uniform. Teehee.

Review?


	6. Postscript

Alright, I'm back. Relatively soon, by my standards. This one's not really funny, but it was fun to write. Although, I don't know much about Aoi...

I own nothing.

* * *

Dear Natsume,

I miss you bunches. It's just not the same when you and Ruu-chan are gone and I'm all by myself. Part of me just wishes all this didn't happen, and we were all back home together instead of apart. But the rest of me knows that for every bad thing that happens, something good happens as well. If it weren't for the Academy, you never would have met Mikan-chan and all your nice classmates. You've been happier because of them, even if you don't like to show it, Nii-chan. If anyone can tell, it's me.

It's boring, at home. Dad's fine. He was really overprotective at first, but he's still, well, Dad. Still wears clothes with paint on them, still smiles like he used to, still leaves the toilet seat up sometimes, still can't cook (except for microwave hot chocolate and popcorn and stuff). You know how it is. I've had to switch lunches with Maki-kun every day. For some reason, he says he doesn't mind Dad's cooking. I think he might, but he's just too nice for his own good. He says I'm cute. I think he's sweet.

Dad says we should have him over for dinner sometime. I've been trying to talk him out of it.

We visited Ruu-chan's parents a little while ago. They talked, and let me go upstairs and watch The Princess Bride. Do you remember how we used to watch that movie, all in a row in bed, you and me and Ruu-chan? I know you hated it, but put up with it for me. I was all alone, and it was so lonely I almost cried. Come back soon, Natsume. If you don't, I just might die.

It's not all bad. I keep busy. The people at school like me a lot. They're all really nice. It's hard to decide who my best friend is. I have a lot. There's Rumi-chan, Kanae-chan, Fumiki-kun, Yae-chan, Maki-kun, Chihiro-chan… I showed the girls a picture of you the other day. They all think you're cool. I told them I'd tell you. It feels so great, having as cool a brother as you.

How have you been? How's Ruu-chan? I hope you haven't been too mean to Mikan-chan. If you have, go apologize. I mean it. Right now, Natsume.

-Your loving sister, Aoi

P.S: Send me something cool from Central Town, please. Please?

P.S.S: Tell Ruu-chan hello from me.

P.S.S.S: And Mikan-chan. Tell her too, 'k?

xx

Aoi,

Quit bugging me. You must have a life. Go live it. Someone as friendly as you's got to have better things to do than write your brother. It's not like I've got anything much to say.

Except: Make your own lunch. Just a suggestion.

Because you asked: Luca's fine. Polka-dots is fine. I'm fine.

Also, I don't like the sound of this Maki-kun. Don't let him touch you. If he does, I'll bust out of here and come kill him myself.

-Natsume

P.S: Don't call him Ruu-chan. He doesn't like it.

P.S.S: Stop using so many unnecessary postscripts. It's annoying. If you can't fit what you want to say in the actual letter, then it's probably not worth saying. And P.S.S.? Post-script-script? It doesn't even make sense.

P.S.S.S: I know I'm being a hypocrite. No need to point it out.

xx

Dear Natsume,

How rude. You're a meanie.

:P

That was me sticking my tongue out at you. You can't see me, but I really am. Trust me.

If you're just going to reply like that, I don't see why I even bother writing you. Why am I writing this? I might just not send it now.

Never mind. I'll still send it. That's because I'm a good sister, and want to know how Nii-chan's doing.

By the way, you killing Maki-kun is totally unnecessary. He's nice to me, not like you.

:P

-Love (sometimes), Aoi

P.S: I don't care what you say. I like P.S.'s.

P.S.S: Mikan-chan calls him Luca-pyon, can I call him that?

xx

Aoi,

Please don't stick your tongue out at me. I get enough of that with (here he crossed out the word "Polka") Mikan. It's childish and rude. You're going to grow up a lady if it kills me.

If you don't want to write, then don't write. Whatever.

And the Maki kid lays a hand on you, I beat him up. That's my right as your brother. Don't argue. You get to annoy me all you want and I still have to love you, so your position's got some perks, too.

-Natsume

P.S: No. His name's Luca.

xx

Dear Natsume,

I'm sorry for sticking my tongue out (sort of). It just made me sad that you didn't care what I had to say. If you did, I didn't pick up on it. It's really hard to convey your Natsume-ism through paper, you know.

You _have_ to love me? Gee, thanks.

-Sincerely, Aoi

P.S: I love you, Natsume. I don't think I _have_ to, but I do anyway.

xx

Aoi,

Dammit, I love you too.

-Natsume

P.S: Somehow I feel like this was a huge waste of a piece of paper.

xx

Dear Natsume,

Love isn't a waste of paper.

-Lots of love, your sister, Aoi

P.S: Alright, technically, there are plenty of better ways to use a piece of paper than to write one line on it and send it and never use it again. But you know what I mean, right?

P.S.S: I still love you, though.

* * *

My new goal for this story is to put practically every character in the spotlight for at least a chapter. Then I'll end it. But, as there are SO many characters, this'll take a while before it's finished.

Review... Please?


	7. Pie in the Sky

This was written solely because I wanted to title something "Pie in the Sky." I just kind of worked from there. That's my excuse for the pointlessness.

* * *

It was as close to normal as it ever got around Alice Academy, possibly closer than usual. There was surprisingly little tomfoolery going on in the middle-school division. Most everyone was merely sitting down, shutting up, and doing their work (or pretending to) as per the teacher's instructions.

Sitting still, being quiet, and most of all, doing work were mysteriously absent from Koko's list of strong points. Thus, he was firmly in the pretending-to-work camp. Thankfully, Kitsuneme was there along with him, playing an unusually good game of "Dude, Look at That Cloud!"

"Hey," he began, after a prolonged period of looking out the window to try and locate the turtle-on-a-skateboard-shaped cloud that Kitsuneme had pointed out. "You know that song?"

"Man," Kitsuneme muttered. "You're going to have to be more specific."

Koko made a few sweeping motions above his head. "Oh, you know the one, about the bananas."

Kitsuneme replied with the universally accepted "Call Me" gesture. "Bananaphone?"

"No, the one, you know how it goes…. There are no bananas in the sky… Y'know?"

He nodded emphatically in recognition, happily singing the rest of the little tune. "There's a sun, and a moon, and some coconut cream pie, but there are no bananas in the sky… Yeah. What about it?"

"I've been thinking…" Koko mused. "Why would there be coconut cream pie in the sky if there aren't any bananas? I mean, if there were bananas in the sky, then there could be banana cream pie in the sky, and wouldn't that be better? Heck, if coconut cream pie can get in the sky, then why can't there be ice cream or rabbits or actual people in the sky? It's just a song. Why are they just taking this out on bananas?" He nodded a couple times. "You get what I'm saying?"

"Wow, dude," Kitsuneme replied, a little taken aback. "I think you need to chill. They only used 'coconut cream pie' because it rhymes."

Sumire's pencil lead snapped, again. The thing was worthless, really. But she hadn't really been concentrating on sharpening it anyway. She'd been listening to Koko and Kitsuneme discuss bananas. If there was something to be said for the pair of them, it was that they were never boring. But they were certainly stupid sometimes.

"You guys are idiots," she interjected, shoving her pencil back in the sharpener.

"Excuse me?"

"Coconut cream pie is a metaphor. They're talking about clouds."

Koko rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Ahhh… I get it now… it's a _metaphor_. Thanks loads, Sumi."

She pulled her pencil out of the pencil sharpener, testing it on her thumb. The lead was too sharp, and instantly broke off with the slightest bit of pressure. She cursed, jamming it back into the electric sharpener and sighing in exasperation when it was too short to be pulled back out. Giving up, she turned back to Koko. "Do you even know what a metaphor is?"

"It's like when you compare one thing to another, isn't it?" Kitsuneme offered. "You know, like 'the guy was dead as a doornail." He paused for a few seconds, contemplating. "What's a doornail, and why's it dead?"

"You're both morons," Sumire replied. "That's a simile. What grade are you in, again?"

"Well, then," Koko suggested. "Why don't you just remind us what a metaphor is and save us the trouble of guessing?"

Sumire huffed exasperatedly. "Fine. Well, a metaphor's pretty much like a simile, except more figurative and symbolic. You don't use the 'like' or 'as' or whatever."

Koko blinked. "I don't get it."

"I don't know what to tell you," Sumire muttered. "I give up. Hey, Iinchou." She prodded Yuu in the shoulder, who had been trying to explain yesterday's biology lesson to Mikan. "Give us an example of a metaphor."

Yuu scratched his head. "Well, if I were to say that Mikan-chan looks blue," which, Koko noted, she certainly did, dejected at her lack of biology knowledge, "I'd mean that she looks sad, not literally blue."

"Oh." Koko nodded in comprehension. "So, if I were to walk up to Sumire and say, 'you're a crazy bitch,' then it'd be a metaphor, 'cause she's not actually a crazy girl-dog."

"I d-don't think you're getting the—"

Sumire narrowed her eyes at him threateningly. "Excuse me?"

He ignored her, turning back to Kitsuneme. "And if I told her, 'you're like a crazy bitch,' then it'd be a simile, right?"

"No, dude," Kitsuneme replied, grinning. "You'd be a valley girl. You know." He put on a girly voice. "You're like, a crazy bitch, like, ehmagawd."

"You're both dead," hissed Sumire.

"Metaphorically speaking," Koko snickered, "As doornails?"

"Metaphorically speaking, you're an ass!" Sumire shouted, finally losing it.

Kitsuneme merely watched the two of them with mild interest. "Ah, Koko, the doornail one was a simile, remember?"

* * *

Bananas in the sky for the win! Now that brings back memories.

Review... Please?


	8. Damn Straight

I haven't updated this in _forever_. To be fair, I haven't updated anything in forever. NaNoWriMo has taken all the energy I've had to spare for the last month, and frankly, I'm just kind of lazy. But the rare snowstorm where I live has been a godsend, and combined with Thanksgiving, I got almost a whole week off to write like crazy.

I'm surprised it took me this long to write about Tono, honestly...

* * *

"You're a freak," was the first thing out of his mouth. Rui couldn't say he was surprised.

He sighed, and returned to sharpening his pencil. "I've heard worse."

Tono grudgingly pulled up a chair next to his newly assigned partner for the end-of-year science project. "Whatever. First things first, are you smart?" he asked brusquely. "Because you and I both know I'm not going to do shit on this project, and seeing as our grades depend on it, you may as well try and do a good job."

Intrigued by his partner's bluntness, Rui arched his eyebrows, the corners of his mouth twitching up a bit in vague amusement. "Or, you could always consider doing your own work," he suggested.

"I _do _do my own work, thank you very much," Tono retorted indignantly. "At least, when there's no one to do it for me."

Rui tucked a stray wave of hair behind his ear and propped his chin up with his hand. "No you don't. You copy off Yamanouchi when she's not looking."

"It's the teacher's fault, then," muttered Tono darkly, glancing towards the bespectacled girl near the window who was bent over a notebook and scribbling furiously. "Should've known better than to put me behind her."

"Now, now, Tonouchi," Rui reprimanded lightly. "Don't go blaming others for your complete lack of self-control."

Tono rolled his eyes with a derisive scoff. "Because you've totally got _so _much self-control."

"What are you talking about?" asked Rui, genuinely confused.

"I happen to be close personal friends with Tsubasa Andou," Tono explained, jabbing himself in the chest with his thumb. At the mention of Tsubasa's name, Rui perked up instantly.

"Really? Does he, y'know, mention me ever?"

"Not positively, if that's what you're hoping," Tono snorted. "You know, if you're trying to score points with the boys, I'd suggest _not_ being a total stalker."

Rui opened his mouth, clearly affronted. "I do not stalk!"

"Yeah, sure you don't." Tono's eyes flicked towards the ceiling in as conspicuous a manner as he could muster. "You only curse, follow, obsess over, not even remotely creepy, right. All you Dangerous Ability kids are weirdoes. That's why I hate working with you." He sniffed. "Maybe someone might actually like you if you acted like a normal person."

That comment had personally offended him on so many levels, but Rui chose to avoid a fight and to let it all slide. "I hate to burst your bubble, Tonouchi," he said, "but I think everyone here's a bit too far from normal by this point to even bother."

Tono slammed a hand down on the desk. "Everyone? No! No, we're not!" he commanded. "I am a perfectly normal guy! I practically have my _PhD _in normal! Whereas you…" he leaned closer, squinting, "…are you wearing _eyeliner_?"

"I think it'd look lovely on you if you weren't too normal to even try." Rui shrugged. "Do you even know what PhD stands for?"

He opened his mouth to reply but, stymied, he shut it quietly and slumped down in his seat, shooting a dark glare over the desktop. "Alright," he muttered. "What do you want to do for the fucking science project?"

Rui shrugged hopelessly. "I don't know. You have any ideas?"

Tono threw his hands in the air. "Brilliant. Totally brilliant. That's fucking brilliant!"

"My God, Tonouchi, you don't have to get so worked up about it." A little bemused, Rui pushed the rubric at him. "We have three months before it's due."

Groaning, Tono lurched forwards and let his head fall to the desk. "I hate this," he hissed. "I have better things to do than see what happens if you water plants with bleach."

(Misaki, who was making rounds about the classroom to check on his students, stared at them, scandalized, and drew his potted flower a little closer to his chest.)

"Is that what we'll do, then?" Rui flipped through the information packet for ideas. "I think we're supposed to work our alices into it somehow, though."

"Oh, even better!" Tono grinned through gritted teeth in false excitement. "We can get you to put little stars on them and see how long it takes them to die."

Rui was mildly offended, again, but he'd long since learned to calmly ignore it. "I think you've got me confused with Persona," he pointed out helpfully.

"Oh, same difference." Tono stretched out his arms above his head, tossing his silky hair that was in the awkward bob-cut stage between being short and being sufficiently grown out. "You're both creepy and you both wear lipstick."

"I beg to differ. My lips are naturally pink," Rui informed him, again ignoring the creepy comment.

Tono laughed aloud. "You have got to be the _gayest_ person I've ever met."

"You never did have Narumi, did you?" replied Rui, curious. "Although, I do think he might actually be straight. Shame, really."

"Right, he's the one with the gay hair, isn't he?" Tono snickered. "Looks kind of like yours."

"Thank you. I've always liked it, to tell the truth." Rui nodded. "But if we're talking about gay hair, I think you deserve to come up in the conversation."

Threateningly, Tono pointed a finger at him across the desk. "Watch it. That was way out of line. Unless you intended it to be a compliment, which, well, I won't doubt."

"It could use a little more growing out," Rui judged. "But it's on its way. And I'd have taken it as a compliment, personally, but I suppose the reaction would vary."

"You're damn right." Tono was still pointing at him, glaring intensely. "See, I'm straight. As a line." He reached for a pen and turned over the rubric, dashing a quick line onto the paper. "Here's me. And you, you're the opposite."

"The opposite of a line?"

"Whatever. You can be a circle." He sketched a little ring to the right of the line. "See this? I'm the line, you're the circle. And when you put us together…" He slashed a new line through the circle at an angle. "…You get that 'no' symbol. Like on those no-smoking signs."

"Which you frequently ignore," Rui pointed out. "What's your point?"

"Alright," he admitted. "So maybe that wasn't the best example." Tono scribbled out his drawings. "What I mean is, we're different, you and me. We just don't go together. We don't work." He pointed his pen at Rui. "Understand?"

Rui stared down at the paper silently for a moment, then looked up at Tono blankly. "I wasn't hitting on you, if that's the impression you got."

Indignant, Tono's eyes widened. "Well you'd better not have been!"

"You know, you're really not as sexy as you think you are," replied Rui offhandedly.

"Oh, I'm not, am I?" Rui was taken aback at Tono's obvious offense. "And who is? Tsubasa? Scrawny little bitch. He's fucking _eleven_."

"Well, _I _think he's cute," said Rui, who had picked up Tono's discarded pen and was doodling absently on a corner of the packet.

Tono rolled his eyes. "Yeah. You've made that clear. Why don't you just back off him, huh? He doesn't like you, never did, never will. What's the point?"

"There's always hope, isn't there?" pointed out Rui. "You know when you like someone you don't have a chance with, you—"

"That's never happened to me," interrupted Tono.

"Really." Rui watched him in genuine curiosity, biting his lip. "I've always wondered why girls have no taste."

"That's it." Tono laid his head on the desk and covered it with his arms. "I give up."

* * *

You can just tell I didn't know how to end this, can't you?

Well, anyway, back to NaNo. Roughly 8,000 more words to go.

Reviews make my day... just sayin'.


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